


The Perfect Gift

by musedepandora



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Birthday, Cats, Fanzine, Generations never happened, KiSCon, M/M, Space Husbands, post-movies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-16 05:01:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3475397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musedepandora/pseuds/musedepandora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kirk finally finds the perfect gift for his husband's birthday. Everything doesn't go exactly to plan but with the two of them, it never does. Luckily, that's part of what makes them perfect for each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Perfect Gift

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Fandomlucky. Happy birthday! First appeared in the KiScon's 2013 official zine.

Captain James T. Kirk was a man of many talents. He didn't like to sound arrogant, but it was a well-known fact. He could quote Surak and sing the Standard alphabet backwards. Once, even at the same time. The vid of that one happened to become a Federation-wide, extranet hit, much to his amusement and Spock's exasperation. He could dance the Argellian hyper-waltz and solve Pollock's Octahedral Numbers Conjecture. Not at the same time. Though, he never tried. After all, he had promised his husband he would no longer take unnecessary political risks since The Plutarian Council Incident of 2287. Apparently, just because one could does not mean that one should. For Spock, he would at least always try to remember this. On that note, he could start and end wars with nothing more than a determined nod and a handful of words, and had often done so. During The Plutarian Council Incident, he accomplished this within the course of one night. He could pilot starships, negotiate treaties, overthrow despots, and bring a man back from the dead, thank you very much. Of course, he counted the last one less as something he did than as something the Universe did out of mercy for the tragedy that would be a Jim Kirk without Spock. The point being, throughout the course of Kirk's years, there were exceedingly few things he had difficulty mastering once he put his mind to it.

Of course one of the glaring examples would be his complete inability to buy his husband gifts. It didn't help that Spock was fantastic at picking out gifts for Kirk. 

No matter how hard he tried, he could never find the perfect balance between sentimental and logical, practical and indulgent. They were men unified by their polar extremes. Perhaps if he were only trying to buy a gift for Spock, he'd be more successful. But giving is about more than just the recipient; it's also about the giver. Spock might appreciate a gift that meant he was respected and cherished, but Kirk wanted to give him something that meant he was loved to the depths of Kirk's heart and the limit of human feeling. They were both romantics, speaking words of love and devotion in different languages and gestures. No matter how Kirk tried, someone was left uncomfortable with his gifts. 

And that annoyed the hell out of him! 

They'd been married for nearly 20 years and known each other for much longer. Spock was imprinted on his very soul (nevermind how Bones rolled his eyes every time Kirk said it). He should be able to find something to make them both happy. Or whatever Spock wanted to call it but he would translate to mean 'happy'. Because the opportunity to make Spock happy was the second greatest gift he ever received (the first being Genesis). 

So, with that in mind, it was understandable that he was perhaps exceptionally proud of himself when he finally found The Perfect Gift. It was so simple, he could not believe it hadn't occurred to him before. This time, he got it right. This time, he wouldn't feel like a failure. This time, everyone would be happy. 

 

______

 

"Dammit, Jim! What's so important that I had to leave the hospital early and drag my sorry self through rush hour traffic to see you? What's so wrong with a vidlink? Did you get bored and try to improve it again?"

"Hello to you too, Bones," Kirk replied with a grin at the door. He welcomed McCoy inside with a dramatic arm swooped behind him into the apartment he and Spock had been renting these last three months since their so-called retirement. They had both been teaching classes at the Academy, acting as consultants to Starfleet on plans for the new breed of Excelsior-class starships, and generally making a nuisance of themselves around headquarters as they tried to figure out where they wanted to go from here. Spock seemed very interested in the diplomatic corps. He hadn't said anything concrete yet. Nevertheless, Kirk knew that look in his friend's eye and he could see where this was going. If the Federation had any sense, they'd swoop him up fast as they could and make an ambassador of him. As for Kirk? He really didn't know. He still had a fire in his heart but not as much the fire under his feet. He wasn't a young man anymore and he might finally be coming to terms with that, finding a peace that he never really let himself hope for in the past. He wasn't sure what he was going to do in his post-retirement career but he thought that made it just another kind of adventure. Wherever they went from here, they'd build something worthwhile and extraordinary. They always did.

For now, there was the apartment McCoy entered with a scowl. Tomorrow: who knew? 

Which maybe he should have thought about before getting this particular present.

Too late now.

"Don't you 'hello' me. I know that smile," McCoy replied.

"I always smile like this. I like to smile. It's just my face."

"Exactly. And it means you're up to no good. Now, are you going to offer me a drink? Maybe a sandwich? I missed lunch because of emergency surgery on an Andorian with a torn antenna. Or you could just tell me why you look giddy as a debutante before the ball."

Kirk laughed. "How about all three? Let's go to the kitchen. What I want you to see is already waiting in there anyway." 

McCoy grumbled under his breath but Kirk noticed the smile at the edge of his lips. Bones might have liked to play the grump for dramatic flair, but nothing excited him more than a mystery. All Kirk ever had to do was dangle a hint in front of his friend's nose, and he was off like a blood hound. 

He let McCoy lead the way into the kitchen; the better to watch his reaction.

________

The silence went on longer than he had hoped.

"Well?" he prompted.

McCoy blinked. "It's a cat."

More silence.

"That all you have to say?"

"Didn't know you liked cats, Jim." McCoy reached out and pet the little tortoiseshell kitten's head with the back of two fingers. The kitten slowly blinked it's large, brown eyes and purred loud enough for Kirk to hear across the kitchen.

"I don't." At McCoy's interrogatory eye brow, he shifted foot to foot and rushed to explain. "I mean, I have no problem with them. It's just, I've never had the opportunity to have a house cat before. Growing up, we must have had a dozen barn cats on the farm, but they weren't pets."

McCoy picked up the kitten from the counter with a coo and held her against his chest. "So how impulsive a decision was this? Did you at least ask Spock for his opinion before going out and getting yourself a cat? That couch looks mighty uncomfortable. Especially for a man of your advanced years." The bastard grinned as he said it. He knew exactly which buttons he was pushing. And did it with glee. 

"Not that advanced." Kirk glared and then tried to let it go. "No. The cat's not for me, Bones. Don't tell me you forgot what tomorrow is?"

"Tomorrow?" For about ten seconds, McCoy's face twisted with confusion before it went slack with understanding. "You- No. No.You got Spock a cat for his birthday?!" 

"Exactly." Kirk grinned and waited for his friend to realize how perfect an idea it was. Instead, McCoy burst out laughing. 

"What?"

He kept laughing. Even the kitten was starting to look concerned.

"Bones!"

"Sorry, Jim," he started to pull himself together. It took more effort than Kirk felt comfortable with. "I'm sure Spock will love it. I'm just imagining his face when he opens a box with a bow on top and finds a kitten inside. Don't give me that look! I know you. There's a box with a bow on top, isn't there?"

"Too much?"

"For you two? I don't think there is such a thing." He paused and seemed to reconsider for a moment. "No. A bow on the cat would be too much. Even for Spock."

Kirk scoffed and pretended there wasn't a ribbon in the drawer behind him that he had bought specifically for that purpose. Nevertheless, he would take McCoy's advice. He had shared his headspace with Spock for a time, after all.

"Oh Jimmy, you really out-did yourself this time." McCoy looked down at the kitten and started to giggle again.

Now, Kirk was starting to second-guess himself.

"I just thought-." He sighed. "Do I need to take her back? I still have time; I could go to HQ and find some new gadget still in R&D and steal a prototype for him."

"Only you would consider a dishonorable discharge worthy offense a last-minute gift option."

"Seriously, Bones. I called you over here for your opinion, as a friend. I just want to get it right for once. Cat? No cat?"

In his defense, as soon as he realized Kirk was genuinely concerned, McCoy sobered right up. He cleared his throat. "I mean it. He's going to love it. Keep the cat."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Now that he was reassured, he could let go that knot of anxiety in his belly. It wasn't that he thought the doctor knew his husband better than he did. But he was so desperate to get it right that he wanted to be certain. If even Bones thought Spock would like it, he could trust his own judgment. 

Kirk couldn't wait for Spock to get home. 

________

At 1900, Spock sent him a message that he had been drafted into an emergency meeting on the political unrest in the Merqui system and would be unable to make it for dinner. Kirk was disappointed but they were both used to such last-minute changes of plan and so thought nothing of it. 

He took the opportunity to reply to his teaching assistant's message about the upcoming exam in his Advanced Battle Tactics course and look at the revisions for the proposed bridge layout in the new line of Excelsior starships. 

________

At 2200, Spock attempted to contact him through a vidlink but Kirk was busy trying to clean up a mess the kitten had made in the bathroom and didn't hear the ringtone. Somehow, she had managed to engage the toilet, fall in, pull a towel into the bowl with her, and press the button to flush it in her mad dash for escape. He had to throw the sopping wet towel into the laundry shoot, program the bot to mop the floor, and get on his belly and try to coax the shivering demon out from beneath their bed.

Then he had to give the kitten a bath.

He had fought wars with less bloodshed. 

It was already 2213 by the time he saw the alert for a missed call and received the message that Spock might pull an all-nighter and he shouldn't wait up (or at least that was his translation from Spockian to Kirkish). 

A civilian might have resented not seeing their spouse all day, especially when they had a particular surprise in mind for them. But Kirk wasn't a civilian. He and Spock were fleet forever, even if they had retired from the field. A life of military service came with uncertainty, and a romance between two officers? Well, that could be something you plan for life but always had to be lived moment to moment. Kirk understood. And so did Spock, when the same was (frequently) asked of him. That understanding and resonance was one of the things that made them work. So no, he didn't resent it at all. 

Kirk sent his husband a short message that he hoped to see him in the morning before they both had to start the day, made sure the kitten couldn't get back into the bathroom, double-checked his in-box for any urgent messages (there were two, with only one being actually urgent), and went to bed.

_______________

Before he had even fully woken up, he knew Spock was home. 

He could be romantic and claim that he could sense him through the bond (he wasn't a telepath and so rarely felt anything through their mating link unless Spock was trying). He could take it as some example of a Human sixth sense of when his husband was near (this was only slightly more true as he always felt Spock was near unless proven otherwise). Or he could say that after all these years, he could recognize in his sleep the sound of his lover's breathing beside him (true).

But how he really knew was because it was hot as Hell. Though, Spock would point out, still not hot as Vulcan. Because he loved arguing semantics. 

Kirk always had to suffer through this whenever they returned to San Francisco. Spock was used to working in an Earth-cool environment on a starship with thermal undergarments and a stiff upper lip. But there was something about the moist fog or chilly breeze from the Bay that made Spock's very bones cold. So, when he got home, the thermostat went up. Way up.

And so Kirk woke up, because his body had an aversion to heat stroke. 

He was out of bed, in the bathroom, gulping a glass of water before his eyes had even focused. Amazing, how good a simple glass of water could taste when on the edge of dehydration. He threw some more on his face and neck for good measure, then pulled off his shirt and went out in search of the domestic controls. When he found them, he dropped the temperature by almost six degrees Celsius. Once he felt the cool air rushing out of the vents, he could finally think again. He took the opportunity to check the logs to see when the front door had last been opened and the temperature adjusted. According to that, it would seem Spock returned home just before 0300, which was only about two hours before. Kirk had a meeting with Admiral Rivera at 0730 about forming a committee to reevaluate command track training for deep space missions and first contact protocols and then wouldn't have more than five free minutes in his schedule until 1700. He remembered Spock had a lecture at 0600 on Interstellar Weather Phenomena that Kirk hoped he'd had the good sense to reschedule. He checked their coordinated planners to see any changes made. He was happy to see Spock now didn't have any obligations until 0750, which really wasn't much better but was at least something. 

The downside to this, of course, was that Kirk really couldn't rationalize waking Spock until 0700, when he would be ready to walk out the door. Oh well. They would have tonight. Kirk took a shower and started breakfast.

Somehow, he totally forgot about the cat.

____________________

Kirk set a plate of tofu scramble with red peppers and black beans on the tray beside the bowl of mixed fruit, glass of water, and cup of Spock's favorite brand of Vulcan herbal tea (even after all these years, he still couldn't pronounce its name). He stepped back and debated whether or not to add toast before deciding the arrangement good enough. Breakfast in bed might be cliche but Kirk thought that was for good reason. Everyone loved breakfast in bed at least once in a while. Even delightfully staid Vulcans who liked to pretend the body was but a vessel, yet still swoop in like a starving le'matya every time their husband made chocolate chip cookies or their special plomeek soup. 

Yes, Kirk was a little proud of how much Spock appreciated his cooking. So he was getting breakfast in bed, whether he wanted to whine about it being illogical or not.

Kirk carried the tray to their bedroom, humming some catchy Tellarite tune he heard some cadets playing the day before in the quad. The door automatically opened at his approach. Inside, he came to a stop and felt his face spread into a grin. Spock laid in the bed on his side, under a mound of blankets, making the very slight snoring noise that he only ever made when dead tired. And curled up on the swell of his shoulder was the kitten, rising and falling with his breaths but looking content as could be. 

The snoring noise stopped. His grin turned into something softer and more guarded. He took the tray to Spock's bedside table and set it down.

"Happy birthday." He kissed Spock's temple. "It's 0700."

"0658. And thank you." Spock's eyes crinkled at the outer corners even before they opened and Kirk felt like he could fly, getting a Vulcan smile so early in the day. When his eyes did open, they immediately connected with Kirk's and held. "We seem to have acquired a domestic feline." 

He reflexively swallowed. "Ah. You noticed."

"Yes." Spock sat up, careful to relocate the kitten to his lap in the process. She opened her large eyes and blinked slowly at them both before going back to sleep. 

"I was certain I left her safely locked in our study last night. She was supposed to be a surprise."

"I assure you, I was surprised when I arrived home this morning to hear feline sounds of distress emanating from our study. She seemed quite content once she was released. Though she did insist on following me into our bedroom. I assumed you would not object as you seem the most likely responsible for her appearance."

"In other words, you heard her cry and couldn't say no." 

Spock's eyebrow was all he deigned reply.

"I had it all planned out," Kirk explained or excused himself. He wasn't quite sure which, since he still wasn't entirely certain how Spock was reacting to this. Yes, he'd rescued the kitten when he heard her crying and let her sleep with them, but this was Spock. He was intrinsically incapable of ignoring a creature in distress and more than willing to suffer if it helped. "I was going to give her to you yesterday before dinner, but you had the emergency meeting. Then I was going to hide her in the study and give her to you before breakfast. So much for plans. You'd think I'd learn by now."

"Technically, you did accomplish your secondary goal. She was hidden in the study and I did find her before breakfast." Spock reached out and retrieved his cup of tea. He took a sip, watching Kirk over the rim. "I am not displeased, Jim." Finally, his voice took on that warm, reassuring tone that Kirk hadn't even realized he needed. "However, I am... mystified by your choice. Why did you decide to give me a cat?"

Kirk sat beside his knees on the bed and reached out to scratch the kitten behind an ear. She began to purr but otherwise didn't move. "A civilian was handing out fliers outside campus for an adoption fair yesterday. It had a picture of a black cat on it... Remember 1968? Well, I remembered how comfortable you looked holding a cat and then the times you've mentioned Amanda had a cat while you were growing up. You speak so fondly of I-Chaya and that cat, I thought you might like a pet. I couldn't get you a sehlat. And whatever we choose to do in our post-retirement careers, a sehlat would be difficult to maintain. But a cat? That shouldn't be too hard, should it?" He folded his hands back into his lap and tried not to look too anxious to please. 

Spock took another long sip from his tea cup before returning it to the tray. He reached down and lifted the cat up into his arms so he could look into her face. She gazed straight back at him. 

"What is her name?" Spock asked and Kirk nearly went boneless in relief. If he objected to the cat, he would have said so already.

"She doesn't have one. What do you want to name her?"

"I will need time to observe her and consider an appropriate choice." He replaced her into his lap, but she seemed to be done sleeping. She stood up with her tail straight in the air and jumped off the bed to begin investigating the rest of the room. Spock set a large palm on Kirk's cheek and pulled him in for a slow kiss. "Thank you for the gift and the breakfast. I appreciate the consideration inherent in both." He kissed him again, pulling back too soon for Kirk's liking. "However, it is now 0712 and you have a meeting with Admiral Rivera at 0730. If you dress and leave immediately, you will still be approximately four minutes late."

"I could call her and cancel." He kissed Spock's jaw and the lobe of his ear. 

Spock gave a low hum in reply, obviously not unaffected. "I have a lecture at 0750."

"You could call and cancel."

"Jim."

He growled into the crook of Spock's neck, before pulling back. "I know, I know. You're right." He scrubbed his hands over his face and stood up. "We'll see each other tonight."

"Indeed."

"Meet you in front of the Cochrane Building at 1700?"

"I will be there."

Kirk grinned and held out two of his fingers in the ozh'esta, which Spock met. "See you then."

When he was dressed and heading out the door, five minutes later, it was to the sight of Spock enjoying his breakfast while patiently keeping his fork out of the reach of a playful kitten who thought every movement was a game. He offered to put her back in the study so that Spock could eat in peace, but Spock declined.

In the end, Kirk was twelve minutes late for his meeting, but he couldn't quite make himself regret it. It hadn't worked exactly like he'd hoped but that was fine. In the end, all that mattered was that Spock liked the cat and Kirk finally got it right.

In a momentary fit of hubris, he even thought maybe he really could do everything. He was the best husband ever.

If only he could just figure out how to avoid intergalactic incidents . . . 

Well, no one needs to be perfect.

______________


End file.
